


In Flesh

by Inert_PenMaid



Series: In Flesh [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017)
Genre: F/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Reylo - Freeform, Sexual Tension, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 19:44:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inert_PenMaid/pseuds/Inert_PenMaid
Summary: A series of one-shots exploring the hallowed force-bond through a voyeuristic lens. Rated M as I expect them to escalate. Spoilers for The Last Jedi, tagged, flagged and warned!





	In Flesh

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written for Star Wars before, so I hope it's not soooo terrible. Once again flagging that I have seen The Last Jedi and there are mild spoilers here for anyone with a keen eye. With this piece 'In Flesh' I am attempting to introduce a series of one-shots exploring the force bond between Rey and Kylo Ren through a slightly voyeuristic lens. Been done before but I'm attempting it now because for me the film didn't really represent it as I imagined, in all its invasive, omniscient intimacy. Rated M as I expect the one-shots to escalate. 
> 
> Edit: I am in the Reylo camp, but as of TLJ I still believe any romantic arc is embryonic. I believe it's better defined as infatuation, obsession or curiosity, than love. Here goes!
> 
> '

_In Flesh: Part One_

 

** In Flesh **

 

* * *

 

 

He did not sense her for days, sometimes weeks.

 

It was the needling hairs on his body that revealed her, honing like teeth in living rind. It would startle him sometimes, swearing that he had felt the pain. Like the insensate knowledge of her eyes following him crossways a crowded room, she was the disturbance in his nets, stirring and undulating through the abandoned, crackling interstice between them. Not even when his late Master first elevated him from his own cobwebbed, _impotent_ name, had he felt such things: a haunting, a woman, a _Scavenger Risen above her ranks_ , remembered in living texture. A constant deprivation of his aloneness, no matter the circumstance; with him in his shuttle, in his chambers, as he delegated to that lesser bastard, Hux – with him, _always_. A delectable parasite he neither loved nor hated. In fact, he remained curious.

 

But the girl _hated_ Kylo Ren, that much was plain.

 

She obstructed him when she could, but he found himself returning to their shared place almost unwittingly at first, as though he were running a thumb over a bristling hair, a place overlooked by the razor. He found himself _allowing_ her between the barbed trajectories of his thoughts – and if she cut herself, well, it was a kriffing fault of her own. He enjoyed the frisson of her panic when she did, chagrined to have been busted in her exploration. He might not hear from _Rey the Risen_ for more days, more weeks, then. Not until she grew complacent...or simply forgot that he was there.

 

He glimpsed her in interceptions, interruptions. Crossed signals.

 

She came to him once.

 

 _I see you,_ he accused her, springing upright, naked in his bunk. He found her in daylight, bearing over him. Bloodthirsty fear swelled in her eyes, afraid of herself...and of him. Why had she come? Her apparition might even have been accidental. Ren's gaze dipped;she was fully armed. That amused him. _A new lightsaber. Did you think to finish my uncle’s work?_ He scoffed. _Unfortunately for you he didn’t sound off a heartbeat like a rusty freighter engine._ _Come quietly tomorrow, Scavenger. Kill me then._

 

When he felt her withdraw, he rolled over and shut his eyes.

 

This was something else, he had decided as he lay. Something beyond constraints of the skin, beyond divination of the eyes. _Surrounding and binding_ , an old master of an old master might have said. And they were. Even when standing each at the margins of space, insulated by the dark din of creatures in their billions – there was a fingerprint upon them that belonged to an ancient dominion. Its fiefdom was not of the body, but helpless service they had dedicated in flesh.

 

And like a deepening stain, it would not be moved; it would not be cut, be torn, pricked or shot at.

 

They had tried.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Until the next one,
> 
> Inert_Penmaid :)


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